


The Stick

by TheFriendlyStranger



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Electrocution, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 02:36:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4246242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFriendlyStranger/pseuds/TheFriendlyStranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An eye for an eye.</p>
<p>Slit got headbutted by a blood bag, so he took it upon himself to get even.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stick

This wasn't the same war boy from before.

There were a lot, seeing as he had his blood drawn a number of times throughout the day, but he couldn't even vaguely recognize this one. All he knew about this one was the fingers wrapped around the front of his muzzle, pulling his face right up close, Max powerless to fight against it as he hung upside down, his hands chained up behind his back. This one was painted up a little differently than the ones he was used to seeing, the nose of his muzzle brushing lightly against a forehead that was painted a dark grey, slightly bleary eyes scanning over the sides of his mouth, two cuts stretched up to his cheeks, held closed by metal staples.

“This the feral?” he asked, finally backing his face away, though his fingers remained curled around the front of the muzzle as he glanced behind him, most likely directing the question towards the chronically drooling man. Max had heard him being called the Organic Mechanic a few times. Though, he tuned out whatever reply that he may have given, jerking his head back to try and get the war boy to let go of his muzzle. He opened his mouth to sink his teeth into whatever finger he could, though a sudden jerk to his muzzle left him with his teeth bared, his neck straining from being shaken around so sharply.

“Doesn't act like it,” the war boy said, pulling him sharply towards him again as Max let out a low grunt, thrashing about slightly, “ _Raging feral._ ”

Suddenly, Max was being shaken about by his head, the sharp jerking motions leaving his open mouth to snap shut a few times, teeth clanking together, shooting sharp pains into his jaw. He could almost feel his own brain flopping around inside his head, the dizziness from giving blood only making it worse. It left him yelling short shouts, twisting himself around as he tried to get his muzzle out of the grip of the war boy in front of him.

Max only registered the laughter once he stopped being shaken around, the back of his neck aching and burning. The war boy was now crouched so that he was eye level with him, teeth revealed in a grin as he continued to hold onto the muzzle.

“There he is,” he damn near growled, holding his face close to his before he released his muzzle. Max swung back a bit, seeing as the war boy didn't stand up completely just yet, and took his chance. With a surprising amount of strength he swung himself forward, using his shoulders to buck his head and smacked the front of the muzzle hard against the war boy's grinning face.

The hit made the other man stumble back a few paces, planting a hand against the ground to keep himself from falling on his ass before he shot up. He wrapped his hands tight around Max's throat, cutting off his wind pipe. From his position, he could see the small bit of blood dribbling down from a cut on the war boy's forehead, but not much else.

It still was enough to warrant a choke, apparently, a strangled noise escaping Max after a few more moments.

Though, someone moved into his field of vision, the upside down visage of the Organic Mechanic coming up behind the war boy. He didn't step in right away, only watching with mild curiosity as he licked some spit from his bottom lip, placing a hand on the war boy's shoulder.

“Not the place, Slit,” he said, “Pups still 'round. Need to keep this one alive, universal and all.”

The war boy, Slit, only growled in response, watching as Max struggled to keep his eyes open. The blood that had been pooling in his face feeling like it was pressing up against his skin, like his head was going to pop, though his gaze never left Slit's.

The Organic Mechanic's hand tightened around the war boy's shoulder, the grin on his face seeming to contradict what he was telling him to do.

“Got an offer for you,” he said, Slit's gaze flickering towards the other man's for a few moments, “Gotta drop the blood bag, first.”

For a few moments, it seemed like Slit was disagreeing, his hold tightening. The pressure in Max's head was almost too much, his teeth gritted together. Though, suddenly he was released with a small shove, leaving him to sway back and forth as he took in deep breathes of air, blood pumping back into his face, his eyes drooping shut as the two other men stepped away from him.

 

* * *

 

The searing hot pain of electricity was something he couldn't get used to.

It left him with no other option other than to tense up and left him flopping when it was removed from whatever part of his body they pressed the stick to. Falling out of his cage like a sack of flesh. He never felt more like a blood bag than in those moments, even when he's had blood drawn.

This time, it came out of the blue. Slipping between sleep and alertness when that pain shot through his muscles, and he flopped through the bottom of his cage with a yell. At first, Max assumed that morning came quicker than he was used to, expecting to see war boys filtering in, except it was oddly quiet and still dark. Though, he could easily see Slit standing a few steps from him, the Organic Mechanic loosening something by his cage. Suddenly, Max actually fell, landing on his back, his limbs a limp mess as a pain shot up his back and skull.

His hands were still locked behind his back, but his legs were free. It took a few moments, the shakiness still present from the shock and the fall, though when he heard someone approaching him, he shot up. Without an idea about what was going on, his first instinct was to take his first opening and run. So, he did. Without anybody else in the hall, aside from the other blood bags, the corridor was wide open and he ran for an exit. Except, someone stepped out in front of him, jabbing him quickly in the stomach with the stick. Max let out a strangled cry at the pain of yet another shock, the Organic Mechanic shoved him back into the area a little more before Max collapsed onto the floor.

“'s all yours,” he heard the Organic Mechanic say, Max watching him with wild eyes as he sat himself down under one of the blood bags, a dribble of spit leaking off his lip. A pair of hands grabbed Max under his shoulders, hulling him to his feet.

Instantly, he turned on his heel and let out a yell at the war boy grabbing him. Without his arms and the weakness still present, it was really all he could do at the moment. He was caught slightly off guard when Slit slammed his own forehead into his face, hitting the bridge of his nose. Max collapsed once again, blood oozing out from his nose.

“Wish you would let me use my knives,” Slit said, stepping towards Max.

“Keep the blood in,” the Organic Mechanic replied, his grin once again contradicting his words. “I'll let you use the stick.”

There were a few moments of silence where Slit seemed to debate this, looming over Max a little bit.

“Free his arms.”

“...You sure 'bout that?”

“Yeah,” he all but breathed out, a grin crossing his face when he noticed the laboured breathing of the blood bag on the floor, Max's teeth gritted. “I'm done playing, I want a fight.”

This time, Max allowed himself to be hulled to his feet, his arms released a few moments later. He didn't make a move toward the war boy, though he could feel his limbs shaking. He didn't want this, felt it was useless, yet being shocked and prodded around like some animal to be herded left him wanting to rip into both the men in the room with him. Felt like a frenzy, almost, tension and anger pulsing through him.

Suddenly, he charged toward the war boy, slamming himself into his middle. Slit proved to be a lot more solid than he had been expecting, but the force was enough to send him stumbling a little bit. A blunt pain shot through his spine when Max felt an elbow jab itself in his back, his shaking legs buckling as he fell to the floor again.

“ _Raging feral!_ ” he called out to him as he stepped back, the mocking not hard to miss, “ _Look at you!_ ”

Max was once again on his feet, of his own accord this time, not charging though. Slit seemed to make up his mind for him, closing the space and punching him in the stomach. A grunt escaped Max, though he didn't fall this time. Quickly, he grabbed at the war boy's arm, kicking hard up under one of his legs. The action sent them both to the floor, Max wound up and punched him in the face. His knuckles caught on the staples, cutting into the skin and leaving them bleeding, but it didn't stop him any. Though, his upper hand was knocked out from him once again when he felt a hand in the back of his muzzle, pulling him back and throwing him onto the floor.

At the sight of the stick once again, Max rolled out of the way. Adrenaline was kicking in once again and he charged towards the war boy, colliding with a short yell, the both of them grunting as Max knocked Slit back into the perch, punching him in the face once again as he fell back. He quickly turned around, dodging out of the way of the stick once again. Though, it seemed that Slit interrupted with a shout, stepping closer to the Organic Mechanic.

“This is _my_ fight,” he stated, turning to look at Max, who was almost crouched. His eyes never left him, watching as Slit grabbed the stick from the Organic Mechanic, approaching him quickly. Max could feel himself being backed in, taking a step back for each one Slit took forward. Without much thinking, he charged yet again, throwing himself towards the floor to avoid getting prodded.

Though, he wasn't quick enough, just starting to rise up when he felt the electricity rip through him once again, centring mostly in his lower back. It was held there for much too long before it was removed, leaving him laying on the floor once again. Though, with his heart beating hard in his chest, Max rolled himself over, grabbing the stick as Slit went back in for another jab. He landed a kick to the side of his legs, sending him to the floor.

Max jumped to his feet, hearing someone approaching him from behind once again. He whirled around, jabbing the stick towards the Organic Mechanic. He held it out towards him, narrowing his eyes.

“Nuhuh,” he grumbled, shaking his head. No. Not happening.

He turned toward the war boy once again, who was rising to his feet. Max turned the stick on him, something egging him on in the back of his head. Wasn't going to kill him, even if the war boy very well could have killed him before.

Though, Slit charged at him once again and Max had no choice. He hit him on his side, sending Slit to the floor with strangled yells as electricity ripped through him. Wasn't going to kill him. Wasn't going to kill him, just enough to keep him down.

Wasn't going to--

Max was on the floor, the stick falling from his hands. Pain shot across the back of his head, his hands reaching out for the stick. A boot kicked it away from him before said boot planted itself onto his back shortly after.

“'nough,” The Organic Mechanic said, Slit sitting himself up. Max allowed himself to go limp, didn't win the fight, didn't lose it either. He shot the war boy a look out the corner of his eye, taking note of the swelling of his face, the blood in his mouth. Max could taste some in his was well, feeling the burning from the shocks, the bruises forming, his heart giving a few palpitations. His muzzle never felt more tight.

“...Fine,” he heard Slit growl, Max allowing himself to shut his eyes for a few moments.

He needed to get out of there.

 


End file.
